


The Hall of Fire

by bookwormfaith



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-02-05 22:16:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1834147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookwormfaith/pseuds/bookwormfaith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a hall once, perfect for the telling of tales</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hall of Fire

**Title:  The Hall of Fire  
Author: **bookworm  
 **Rating & Warnings:** G  
 **Summary:** There was a hall once, perfect for the telling of tales

 **Disclaimer** : _**not mine**_

 

 

There was a hall once, long ago, where a fire was always burning in the hearth, and soft cushions were scattered on nearby chairs and benches invitingly. A perfect place for song and story, in the Last Homely House East of the Sea. The world has changed, now, and the House is gone, and with it the Hall. But the world still remembers.

 

There is a place, now ( _then, always_ ), where there is still a fire burning welcoming in the hearth, and the chairs and benches are always just perfect for sitting and listening. The windows and doors are open to everywhere (every _when_ ), and any can enter. Here, the memory of the great loremasters and storytellers still remains. You might catch Erestor, grumbling about people not respecting the library's sanctity, or Daeron might wander by the window playing his flute ( _oh Luthien, Luthien, he still seeks you_ ). Maybe Lord Elrond himself will be sitting in the corner with his children or his lady wife, listening to Lindir play. Perhaps Finrod Felagund will walk by singing of Valinor ( _white shores and silver towers_ ) long ago, or Echtelion might be found playing his flute in the courtyard by the fountains. You might even catch old Bilbo, sleeping in a corner, or Rumil arguing quietly with Pengolodh at his desk. From the window which looks onto the garden, when the moon is full, the song of Tinfang Gelion still rises. But tonight, ah  _tonight_  a voice is singing, low and sad like the waves on the shore. By the window that looks to the ocean, the last son of Feanor sits.

 

So enter, friend, and be welcome to the Hall of Fire. If it's story or song you are seeking, you've come to the right place.

 

 

 

_"Frodo found himself walking with Gandalf. 'This is the Hall of Fire' said the wizard. 'Here you will hear many songs and tales-if you can keep awake. But except on high days it usually stands empty and quiet, and people come here who wish for peace, and thought. There is always a fire here, all the year round, but there is little other light.'_ _As Elrond entered and went towards the seat prepared for him, elvish minstrels began to make sweet music. Slowly the hall filled, and Frodo looked with delight upon the many fair faces that were gathered together; the golden firelight played upon them and shimmered in their hair." — The Fellowship of the Ring, by Tolkien_


End file.
